Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2013 17:50:06 -0800 (PST)
From: Jane Parks
Subject: Breast Exam
Breast Exam
Jane Parks
f/F, F/Ff, humil.
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. None of the
characters or events herein are based on real people, either
living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS
ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not
an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do
not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you
have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and
that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify
that to your knowledge, this material does not offend the
standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local,
state, or federal law.
Gina Briggs had been dreading this day for weeks. The
mid-thirties high school Health teacher was always extremely
nervous and embarrassed about talking to her eleventh grade girls
on the subject of breast cancer self-examination. In fact, any
class subject dealing exclusively with the female body made her
nervous and distracted. She was even more embarrassed to have to
demonstrate the correct technique for performing the exam on the
torso dummy that the Health and Physical Fitness Department at
her school provided. The girls in her class always either
giggled in embarrassment or made snide comments about the small
dimensions of the torso dummy's breasts. They just didn't take
the demonstration seriously. What did 17-year-old girls have to
fear from breast cancer? Or so they thought. For them, the
demonstration was just another opportunity to fluster and
humiliate their shy, self-effacing teacher. And Gina's girls
never missed such an opportunity if they could help it.
Gina knew deep down that she exuded an aura of helplessness and
diffidence to her students. And she also knew why, even though
the knowledge embarrassed her right down to the core of her
being. In all her life, Gina had shared her deep dark secret
with only one other person, her longtime friend Christina.
Christina, who incidentally had a daughter in one of Gina's
classes this year, was an old, old friend from college days. And
what had started out one recent Sunday afternoon as a light
conversation between two old and dear friends had somehow turned
into a morbid confession by Gina to her soul mate Christina.
Sitting in Christina's living room, Gina had confessed in a
barely-audible whisper that almost every day, her mind was
cruelly invaded by a succession of nearly uncontrollable images
of her surrendering herself lewdly to one of her female students.
After Christina's initial shock had worn off, Gina abashedly
admitted that often it was everything she could do not to run
right up to one of her girl students and to beg to be allowed the
privilege of worshipping her body right there in class. Gina
shamefacedly confessed to Christina that she masturbated late
into almost every night to quell her sick craving. But, each
morning, when she awoke, her wanton hunger would return, strong
as ever.
When Gina had first confessed her dark fantasy images of
submissiveness to her female students, Christina seemed
embarrassed herself and more than just a little bit stand-offish
to her old friend. But, the next time she invited Gina over for
coffee, Christina began wheedling Gina about the extent and
strength of her lurid images, telling her that she wanted to
comfort and reassure her old friend that all women had such
fantasies to a lesser or greater extent, and that it was natural
and OK.
At first, Christina's leading and insinuating questions about
Gina's submissive fantasies only made the teacher ill at ease and
anxious. But, the more Gina was urged to confide in Christina,
the freer she felt to talk about her deepest secrets. Gina
acknowledged to her old friend that she was obsessively absorbed
with wanton fantasies involving her being physically overpowered
by one of her students, and then being sexually molested by her,
and then being forced to service the girl's intimate places with
her mouth. Somehow, through the exercise of great will power,
Gina had so far successfully repressed these humiliating
compulsions during her working hours at school. But recently, it
seemed that they were becoming harder and harder to resist. As
Gina told more and more of her sinister secret, Christina offered
up a litany of bland encouragements and mock-comforting
reassurances. But after a time, Gina began to realize that
Christina was really much more interested in squeezing every last
morsel of salacious information out of her than she was in
offering true comfort. So, Gina just changed the subject from
then on whenever Christina began to probe and query. And, after
a while, both women avoided the subject altogether.
Gina's sixth period Health class was composed of all junior
girls. That was deliberate scheduling on the part of the
administration that allowed Gina to discuss such topics that were
of special interest to females, such as breast self examination.
These were highly embarrassing presentations for Gina because
they somehow stimulated her morbid desire to surrender sexually
to one of her students. It was much more difficult for Gina to
keep her fantasies in check when she had to discuss intimate
female topics with her class full of young girls. And besides,
the girls always made fun of her presentations, and did
everything they could to make Gina blush. Gina thanked her lucky
stars that her embarrassing talk on breast self-examination would
be the last thing she had to do that school week.
The class was small, only ten girls, and they knew the minute
they came through Gina's door what the subject of that day's
lesson was to be. For there, resting on the top of Gina's desk,
was the torso dummy. The girls all looked at each other,
giggled, and whispered back and forth as they took their seats.
Wow. Here was another opportunity to disconcert their teacher,
to upset her, to embarrass her right into a coma.
Once she had the class settled down, Gina bravely launched into
her topic. She held, clutched in her hand, a pamphlet to which
she referred from time to time to prevent herself from becoming
too flustered.
"Now Girls. As we all know, breast cancer is a very dangerous
and virulent form of cancer, and we must be on guard against it
constantly. Today, we are going to learn how to examine our
breasts for signs of cancer."
Before Gina could say anything else, Trish Wilson, who sat right
in front of her desk piped up.
"God, Ms. Briggs. With breasts as small as that dummy has got,
we'd all have to be eighth graders to be able to compare."
Trish's crude comment generated a general giggle fit among the
rest of the girls. This was partly due to the fact that they
though Trish's comment was genuinely funny. But the other part
of why the rest of the girls laughed was because they were all a
little bit afraid of Trish. They didn't want to antagonize her
in any way. Trish was the kind of bratty teenage girl to
intimidate and bully the other girls for no reason other than she
found it fun to do so. Most of the girls in the room had as
little to do with her as possible because she creeped them out so
badly. And the one girl who was close to her, a little mouse of
a girl by the name of Cindy, was a little too close, if you know
what I mean. Gina worried about Cindy's obviously unwholesome
relationship with Trish; especially since Cindy was her long-time
friend Christina's daughter.
Gina was non-plussed by Trish's brash comment about the size of
the torso dummy's breasts, but she pushed doggedly on with her
presentation. She knew that it would all be over soon and she
could surely stand anything for an hour.
"That's enough, Trish," Gina said with mock sternness. "Now, pay
attention girls and we'll move on with the demonstration."
To prove that she had been in no way cowed by her teacher's
half-hearted admonition, Trish reached over to where her loyal
little posse girl Cindy was sitting and began gliding her hand
along the other girl's neck. Though Gina clearly saw what Trish
was doing, she forced herself to ignore it and go on with her
lecture.
"Now girls. Remember that a self-examination includes a number
of different things, such as: looking at your breasts, feeling
your breasts, and gently squeezing each of your breasts to check
for any discharge."
Trish chose that moment to stick another pin in her teacher.
"Ummmmmmm, Ms Briggs. That sounds like it could be kinda fun.
All that looking, and feeling, and squeeeeeeeezing, and all."
As she spoke, Trish made direct eye contact with her teacher.
The feral smile on her face spoke volumes about the hidden
meaning of her words and just whom they were being directed to.
For a while now, the evil little vixen that lived inside Trish's
brain had been casting about for a way to dominate her demure
little Health teacher. You see, Trish had this thing about
sexually subjugating older women. If they demonstrated any kind
of psychological or emotional weakness and also if they were as
good looking as Gina Briggs was, Trish just naturally thought in
terms of finding a way to turn them to her own cruel purposes.
So far, Trish had claimed more than her share of success in
corralling vulnerable adult women into her stable of subby little
pony Mommies. She even surprised herself sometimes with the
compliant female trophies she had acquired among the mothers of
some of her schoolmates. She was pretty certain that some of the
girls in her class at least suspected that their mothers had
fallen under Trish's cruel spell by the peculiar ways these older
women acted around her whenever Trish attended school-sponsored
swim meats, track and field events, etc. In truth, it was
difficult not to notice how one or another of the mothers would
just sort of disappear with Trish for unexplained periods of
time. Then, just as mysteriously, she would return, all
red-faced, misty-eyed, and disheveled.
Trish was also pretty sure that this was why so few of her
classmates wanted to be around her. Nobody ever talked openly
about it, but several of Trish's female classmates suspected that
something really sick was going on, and that Trish was the one
behind it all. Better not to know, Tina's female students said
to themselves and to each other in furtive whispers. Just hope
and pray that YOUR mother wasn't involved with Trish. That was
most certainly the prevailing attitude among Trish's classmates.
And, while Trish admittedly was having some very 'interesting'
times indeed with the defenseless and oh so docile mothers of
some of her schoolmates, she shamelessly speculated that it would
be extra special fun to lure one of her own teachers inside the
wanton little stable of older women that she kept. And today,
Gina seemed to be just about ripe for the picking, especially
given what Trish already knew about her.
For her part, Gina tried her best to ignore Trish's baiting words
and the double meaning behind them. At the same time, she could
feel herself being drawn in by the teen girl's bright, shiny
eyes. Gina had certainly heard things from some of the other
teachers about Trish's wanton reputation, and it frightened her
more than she could stand sometimes. She knew that for the past
few weeks she had been slowly but surely losing ground in her
battle to resist giving in to her submissive fantasies. What if
Trish decided to turn her mesmerizing sights Gina's way? Could
she resist such a sinful attraction when other, stronger women
had found it impossible? The Health teacher knew deep down in
the pit of her soul that she was very lonely, and that her dull,
empty life had nothing to it outside of school, and that she was
growing less and less able to shrug off Trish's unabashed and
wanton advances. It was true that, so far, Trish had never done
anything so blatant in her class as to call sufficient attention
to it to warrant Gina making a formal complaint to her principal.
But Gina knew that her girl student was dangling tantalizing
bait right in front of her, and she also knew that the cruel hook
hidden inside the bait had a sharp barb on the end.
Gina didn't at all know way, but she did know that an
increasingly overpowering part of her psyche craved all of
Trish's attention to her, whether it evidenced itself through
criticism of her teaching or not. Gina also knew that she craved
much more than merely Trish's attention to her in class. And
those feelings were only getting more pronounced.
Gina shook her head to clear it of a flood of salacious thoughts
and images that revolved around Trish. She distracted herself by
reading from the pamphlet.
"In order to observe your breasts, remove your top, expose both
breasts, and stand right before a mirror. Search diligently with
your eyes for changes in the size of your breasts, dimpling of
the skin, or something unusual such as an inverted nipple."
In a stage whisper Trish said, "Do it, Ms. Briggs. Do it. Let's
all see 'em. You know you want us to see 'em."
Cindy heard her and giggled, as did other girls within earshot of
Trish. The very thought of their teacher exposing her breasts to
them right here in the classroom was both ludicrous and totally
gross.
Gina heard Trish also, and she sucked in her breath to keep a
little hungry whimper from escaping. There was an impatient
insistence in Trish's whispered suggestion that almost made the
shy teacher obey her. But she caught herself just in time.
"Girls. We don't have a mirror, but you can observe the torso
dummy, and look at its breasts as if they were your own. Do any
of you see any of the signs of breast cancer that I just listed?"
No one said anything.
Gina directed her gaze at Cindy who was slumped back in her chair
while Trish ran her probing little finger around the girl's ear.
"Cindy," Gina spat the words out as an admonition to the girl to
pull herself together and not allow Trish to make such a sordid
spectacle of her in front of the other girls. Cindy yawned,
slitted her eyes, and drawled, "no, Ms. Briggs, I don't see any
signs at all of cancer on the dummy."
The class, which had understood that Gina had called on Cindy not
to answer her question but because of what Trish was doing to
her, fell to laughing at the dozy girl's confusion. Trish just
grinned and continued her erotic play with Cindy's ear.
Gina tried to put a good face on it by pressing on.
"After you look at your breasts for signs of change, you then
gently squeeze each breast directly behind the nipple to
determine if there is any sort of discharge."
Trish slid back in her seat.
"Ummmmmmmm," she moaned and thrust her ample chest forward as if
defiantly offering it to her teacher to fondle. Gina was so
flustered by this time that she could hardly speak. But she
doggedly plodded on, despite her growing awareness of a sharp
tingling sensation deep inside her own body.
"Now girls. The third step in a breast self examination involves
feeling your breasts by using a system that covers the entire
breast. When you touch your breasts using this systematic
approach, make sure you feel them deeply enough through all the
breast tissue."
Trish couldn't help but giggle at this.
"Yeah, girls, Ms. Briggs is right about that," the teen girl
chimed in.
"I want you to be sure to feel your breasts really deep through
all that tissue. And that goes double when you're helping other
girls feel their breasts, too. Right, Ms. Briggs?"
Trish's lascivious jibe was rewarded with a long series of
giggles and catcalls from the other girls. One brave soul,
Petra, had enough gall to say back to Trish, "oh, you're soooooo
right, Trish, baby."
More giggles as Gina Briggs attempted vainly to restore
respectful silence and order in her class. Although she openly
ignored Trish's lewd question, its lurid impact upon her was
devastating. A sudden image of the girl sitting in front of her
brazenly squeezing her teacher's vulnerable, naked breast flooded
through Gina's consciousness. And with that image came a raging,
burning craving the like of which she had never felt before: a
sick craving to turn that flashing erotic image into immediate
reality. Gina defiantly shook the image off, swallowed hard,
took a deep breath, and pressed on with a dry mouth and a
pounding heart.
"Remember girls, you must cover all areas of your chest and
underarm to do the examination correctly. Doctors say that the
best time to examine your breast is when you are lying down, with
the arm which is on the side to be examined tucked up behind your
head."
Trish gazed meaningfully into her teacher's eyes.
"Ummmmmmmm. I bet that would make the exam feel really good, Ms.
Briggs. Don't you?"
Gina fought desperately to retain control.
"The exam isn't supposed to feel good, Trish. It's supposed to
help women detect breast cancer."
There was a tone in Gina's voice that was almost pleading with
Trish to just leave her alone to finish her demonstration. But
Trish decided to sink her claws in a little deeper.
"I know that, Ms. Briggs. But I bet if it felt really
goooooooood, then girls would do it more often. Don't you?"
Petra started giggling.
"You're right about that, Trish. Why, I bet that I'd do it every
night. Especially if I had some help."
More giggles and a hot blush from Gina Briggs.
"Girls. Now stop all that nonsense and pay attention to how you
are supposed to feel your breasts for lumps or any kind of
unusual swelling or anything out of the ordinary. You have to
imagine your breasts as if they were clocks with the nipple at
the center. Are you with me so far?"
Trish leaned further forward and whispered "tick, tock, tick,
tock," while staring hard at Gina. She held her hand right in
front of her so that it was clearly aimed at Gina's own torso.
"Tick, tock, tick, tock."
Again and again. Just a whisper. But Trish knew for certain
that Gina heard her.
The Health teacher began to stammer.
"G-girls, you h-hold your three middle f- fingers flat against
your breast, but do not use your f-fingertips. Be sure to use
the f- flat of your fingers."
Trish looked around at the other girls.
"That's right. Do it just like Ms. Briggs says. 'Cause if you
use just the fingertips, all the other girls will be sure to know
you're just feeling yourself up."
More giggles.
By now, Gina felt hot, sticky little beads of perspiration
collecting on her lower lip. Her clothes felt tight and
constricting. She could feel the hot blush of embarrassment
moving across her chest. God, let this be over soon. She
plucked at her reserves of will power and placed her trembling
fingers on the torso dummy to demonstrate the correct examination
procedure for the girls.
"Start with the nipple. Then, using small circular motions,
press firmly against all of your breast tissue out to 12 o'clock.
Then, return to the nipple and repeat the circular motion out to
1 o'clock. Then, just do the same thing to your breasts for all
the other numbers around the clock.
Trish leaned forward so that she was now staring straight at
Gina's blouse.
"Give me the digits," she said the words right out loud.
An uproar of giggles and outright laughter erupted from the other
girls. Even comatose little Cindy got the joke.
Gina leapt back a couple of paces as if she had been jerked on a
leash. She was about to cry out in terror just when the
end-of-class bell rang.
The Health class erupted into happy, boisterous chatter as the
girls scooted their desk chairs back and bolted for the door.
All but Trish and Cindy. They just sat there. Trish openly
gazed at Gina as if she were the catch of the day, and Cindy just
sat where she was because Trish hadn't told her to do otherwise.
Gina stood stark still like a doe outlined by the headlights of
an oncoming locomotive.
"Great presentation, Ms. Briggs," Trish said with a lisp of false
good cheer.
Gina tried her best to break eye contact, but just couldn't quite
do it.
"T-t-thank you, T-Trish," the bedazzled teacher stammered a weak
reply.
Trish herself broke eye contact and turned her head to look at
her pet, Cindy.
"Wasn't Ms. Briggs demonstration really good, Cindy?"
Cindy nodded her head 'yes' just like she knew she was supposed
to.
Trish turned back to Gina.
"You know, Ms. Briggs, I really don't think Cindy got it all. In
fact, I don't think Cindy got any of it."
Gina continued to just stand there. Her nether lips burned as if
ants were biting her. Her ears rang. Her head ached. She felt
as though she was falling down a very deep hole.
Trish slowly stood up from her desk and walked around to where
her teacher was standing transfixed.
"Don't you think it's a shame when a student doesn't understand
the lesson, Ms. Briggs?"
Gina nodded dumbly. Where was this going? Did she even care any
longer?
Trish placed her hand right on her teacher's bare forearm. It
was a very light touch, but Gina jumped as if she had been hit
with an electric shock. Try as she might, Gina just couldn't
bring herself to move away.
"Don't you think we ought to help Cindy get the lesson right, Ms.
Briggs?"
Trish began gliding the merest tips of her fingers up and down
her teacher's exposed forearm.
"Well, don't you?"
Gina shivered. She could feel the hot mucus fluids sticking to
her nether lips. She could sense the burning itch deep inside.
She could no longer prevent the lurid, sick images from flashing
in her head. Then, some ultimate spark of self-preservation
flared up in her lust-fogged brain.
"I don't know, Trish. Perhaps, I could do it again on Monday.
Then, perhaps Cindy would understand it all better."
Trish slowly shook her head as she continued her sliding, gliding
touching.
"I don't think she can wait that long, Ms. Briggs. I don't think
I can, either. Don't you always say that the best way to teach
is immediate re-enforcement? If we wait till Monday, Cindy will
have lost what little she did get out of today's demonstration.
Don't you think it would be better to do it as soon as possible?
You don't want Chrissie's daughter missing out. Do you, Teach?"
OH God. Gina wanted to run: run as fast and as far as she could.
Right then.
"Whose daughter?"
Trish smirked down at her teacher.
"Chrissie's. You know Cindy is Chrissie's daughter. Don't you,
Teach?"
Gina began to tremble all over her body. She was suddenly scared
stiff.
"Chrissie?"
Trish continued her lurid exploration of her teacher's arm.
"Yes. Chrissie."
Gina felt like she was going to faint.
"You know her as Christina."
Trish glided her exploring finger along the inside of Gina's
sleeve.
"You know. She's your old friend from college or something."
Gina tried and tried to pull away, but Trish saw the resistance
and held her arm tightly and wouldn't let go.
"Chrissie's a cutie pie. Did you know that, Teach?"
Gina continued to struggle. But she was weakening. The images
just wouldn't stop invading her brain. Oh God. What images.
What sick promises they held.
"She's a real docile little cutie pie."
Now Gina wasn't struggling any more. The images were way too
strong.
"She's been my 'friend' for a couple months now."
More images crashed through Gina's consciousness. Images of
Trish and 'Chrissie': sick, horrible, hungry images.
"She's just so eager to please me. She's sooooo cute."
Gina began to cry softly, but she didn't move away from Trish's
now stroking hand.
"I even made her give me Cindy as a present to play with. Wasn't
that just so sweet?"
Hot tears began streaming down Gina's flushed face.
"I bet you didn't know about me and Chrissie. She has told me
soooo much about you. That's why she has been asking you all
those nasty questions. I told her to."
Gina's body began to be racked with deep, soul splitting sobs.
"In fact, I was listening from inside Cindy's bedroom the last
time you were over there. I'm surprised you didn't hear little
Cindy. She makes the cutest little noises when I'm playing with
her and getting her all wet and slippery for her Mommy. Chrissie
so enjoys the taste, now that I made her try it."
Gina could hardly stand up. She closed her eyes as tight as she
could. God, please make the images stop!
"I really like watching them play together. It's so cute,
especially when Chrissie cries."
Gina sobbed and sobbed until she sobbed herself out. Then she
took a deep breath. Maybe she still could get away. Maybe she
still could get away. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
"No, Trish. I think we can wait till Monday to demonstrate the
examination procedure. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you
like to ridicule and humiliate, and degrade me in front of the
whole class? Just like you did today?"
Trish giggled.
"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Teach. I plan
to."
Trish slid her finger along the short sleeve of Gina's blouse up
to the shoulder. Then she began playing lewdly with her
teacher's blouse collar.
Gina winced.
"God. Please don't do that, Trish. It's not right for you to
touch me that way."
Trish moved her fingertips along her teacher's collarbone. She
was rewarded with a little whimper and a sharp intake of breath.
God, Gina prayed as hard as she could for Trish to just go away.
Gina knew that this was so wrong. She just knew she should slap
Trish's hand away and storm out of the classroom. But her
ravenously hungry body refused to obey those last, fluttering
little desperate signals her brain sent out.
"Are you sure you don't want me touching you, Ms. Briggs?"
Gina could feel Trish's fingertips lightly stroking her neck.
Ummmmmmm. So hungry. And, despite her longing to preserve
herself as something other than Trish's new subby play toy, the
intense sexual feelings that the girl brought out in her were
purest heaven. Or was it hell? Whatever it was, Gina just
couldn't get beyond her craving any longer. Her knees were
getting weaker and weaker. Her breathing was coming in short,
sharp pants for air. She had broken into a cold sweat. Her
heart raced. Her stomach was tied up in knots.
"Are you sure, Teach?"
"Un huh," was all Gina could manage.
Trish let her fingertips wantonly graze along her teacher's bra
strap and began sliding under it.
Gina let her head fall forward as if she were asleep. She just
had to find enough strength to make this girl stop her evil
touching. But her body didn't want Trish to stop. Oh no. Not
at all. Not ever.
"Do you really want me to stop, baby," Trish asked quietly as she
continued to explore.
"Un huh,"
But by now Gina really didn't mean it. Gina didn't mean anything
any more. Gina was just hungry. Gina just wanted to do anything
Trish said so long as Trish fed her. And soon.
"Do you really want me to stop feeling you up, Teach?"
Trish's words were harsh and insulting. Gina knew that. But
Gina didn't care any more. Gina was very, very hungry now.
Gina let out a slow breath.
"Unh, uh."
Trish leaned very close to her somnolent teacher.
"Well I will stop, Teach. I'll stop this very minute unless you
agree to give Cindy and me a private demonstration of this breast
exam thing."
Gina slitted her eyes.
"I can't do that, Trish," Gina slurred the words as if she were
drunk.
"Sure you can, Teach," Trish responded with a lilt of gleeful
triumph in her voice.
"You can do it at home. Right in your own living room. Right in
front of me and Cindy."
Gina shook her head drowsily.
"I can't take the torso dummy out of the building. They told me
to leave it here for someone to take back later."
Gina knew she was making no sense any more, but she was trying so
hard to hang onto a shred of her sanity. Trish only laughed at
her.
"We don't need that old flat-chested dummy, Teach. No. We'll
use the real thing. Get it?"
Trish added stark meaning to her statement by allowing her
fingertip to trace the very edge of her teacher's bra inside her
blouse.
"Won't we, Teach? Won't we use the real thing?"
Gina began to cry again.
"Well, Teach?"
Gina nodded her head in silent agreement.
Trish wanted more. Trish always wanted more.
"Say it, Teach. Say it nice and loud so Cindy and I can plainly
hear you."
Gina shuddered all over her body.
"We'll use the real thing, Trish. We'll go to my house and I'll
do the demonstration using the real thing."
Trish rewarded her teacher's assertion with a loving little
squeeze of her right breast through her bra. Gina whimpered like
she was in heat. Her slit was on fire. She could feel the
sticky way her nether lips clung to her panties. She knew that
she was soppy wet.
But Trish wanted more. Trish always wanted more.
"Well, Teach. What's the real thing, anyway?"
Gina raised her head slightly.
"My own breasts, Trish. That's the real thing."
Trish smiled and squeezed a little harder this time.
"And how will you show them to us, Teach?
Gina looked wistfully as her life went right down the tubes.
"I'll take my bra off and show them to you naked."
"That's right, Teach. For a teacher, you learn pretty quickly."
Cindy diffidently tapped Trish on the shoulder. Trish turned and
smiled down at her little toy girl.
"What's her name, Trish? You always make the other ones tell you
their names before you play with them. What's her name?"
Trish smiled and turned back to her teacher.
"Yeah, Teach. Cindy's right. What is your name?"
Gina thought and thought.
"Ms. Briggs."
Trish snapped Gina's bra strap. The teacher yipped at the
surprising sound and the accompanying bite of pain.
"Your FIRST NAME, stupid."
Gina knew that giving Trish and Cindy her first name was yet
another rung down the long ladder that she would never be able to
climb back up.
"Gina."
Trish smiled.
"See, Cindy. Gina has a pretty first name. I think we'll call
you Teeny Gina from now on. Would you like that, Gina girl?"
At the sound of her new name, Gina felt her slit give a little
spasm of joy.
"Yes, Trish. Teeny Gina sounds nice."
Without batting an eye, Trish squeezed Gina's breast so hard
through her bra that the older woman sank to her knees trying to
escape the pain.
"No more Trish. Do you understand, cow brain? No more Cindy,
either. From now on it's Miss Trish and Miss Cindy. Do you get
it?"
Gina could hardly think for the pain, much less speak. But
somehow she managed to blurt out a high pitched 'yes.'
Trish left off tormenting Gina's breast.
"Say it, Teeny Gina stupid."
Gina focused her mind to try and clear it enough to obey.
"Miss Trish and Miss Cindy," she finally blurted out.
Trish reached down and patted her teacher's head like she was an
obedient little lapdog.
"Good girl."
Trish stroked her teacher's hair and was rewarded with a little
hungry whimper. Gina looked up at her new mistress with hope and
wonder. And Trish looked at Gina with ravenous and evil intent.
"Now that your new name is all settled, let's all three of us go
over to your house and you can demonstrate the nice breast exam
for me and Cindy."
Gina looked at Cindy who smiled back at her vacantly. Then she
returned her gaze to Trish who smiled mockingly.
"Maybe if you do the demonstration really good on your own
breasts, I'll let you do it on Cindy's. Cindy has really nice,
soft, yummy breasts. Don't you, Cindy?"
Cindy smiled at Trish as if she were a fairy godmother.
"Yes, Trish. You told me I have nice breasts. So I must have
nice breasts."
Gina squirmed in anticipation of being allowed to touch Cindy's
yummy young breasts.
"And once Cindy learns how, she can show her Mommy while you and
I get better acquainted. Won't that be fun, Teeny Gina?"
Gina nodded. Then another image flashed inside her head.
"Can I play with Chrissie, too, Miss Trish?"
Trish laughed out loud.
"Before we're through, Teeny Gina, I'll introduce you to all my
Mommy ponies. Including Cutie Pie Chrissie. Would you like
that?
Gina squealed her delight.
"Oh yes, Miss Trish. If that's what you want.'
As Trish led the others out the classroom door, she giggled."
"Well, at least there isn't going to be any breast cancer around
here for a long time to come."
Gina giggled like the happy little girl toy she was. Finally one
of her lessons had gotten through to her students.
Finally.
This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Jane Parks. You
may download and retain a copy for your personal use as long as
the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain
on the copy. Please do not post this story to any web site
without permission from the author. All other rights reserved. No
alteration of the contents is permitted.
Jane Parks can be reached at: janeparkshot@Yahoo.com